Epilogue
by juho69
Summary: It's getting better.


EPILOGUE

_I ought to explain that this story is the eleventh in a sequence and should be read after Washington And Beyond, and Fourteen Years Later._

FOUR MONTHS LATER

Martin and Danny were driving home, after work. It was the month of March, and Spring was awakening the world around them. The birds were singing, the leaves were sprouting green on the trees, flowers were blooming, the sky was blue and they were warmed by the sunshine. It was a time of new beginnings.

"I love the Spring," Martin commented. "Best time to have a birthday."

Danny grinned cheekily. "After July, of course."

Martin laughed shortly. Their conversation came so naturally, one often finishing the other's sentence, and sometimes they even seemed to know what the other was thinking.

The radio was on quietly and, just as they stopped at some traffic lights, a song started to be played. It was one they both knew and both loved. It could have been written just for them – and, probably, many other men as well. As they listened to the familiar, truthful words, they were quiet.

"_The road is long, with many a winding turn…"_

"_So on we go, his welfare is my concern…"_

"_HE AIN'T HEAVY, HE'S MY BROTHER."_

Danny had recently read a book called "The Crossing" and he had shown it to Martin. It was about two British men, James Cracknell, an Olympic rower, and Ben Fogle, a television presenter, who had met by chance at a party and had decided they would row in a race across the Atlantic Ocean together. They could not have been more different, in terms of background and character, as was brought vividly and sometimes painfully to life in the book – but, by the end of their fantastic and almost unimaginable experience, they had formed an unbreakable bond of love and friendship.

It had been similar with the two of them. In their case, it had been Danny fainting at work and Martin coming to his aid – but the result had been the same. They were so very different – but their characters complemented one another and they connected. So many people thought they were brothers – even though they didn't look the slightest bit alike! Martin remembered one occasion during the time he was fighting his addiction when Danny had said to him gently, "There's nothing you can't tell me," and it had become their mantra. Each had walked through his own valley of the shadows of death, but each had had the other holding on to him throughout, and as he had emerged at the end. Martin had the wisdom and experience to realise that time did not always heal the wounds – some scars always stayed – but over time you learned how to manage them. As had been the case with Danny the past few months. The dark circles under Danny's eyes had gradually faded, his demeanour was less tense and flashes of the old Danny could be seen again. He had seen Danny become relaxed and happy in Francesca's presence and he had allowed himself to hope a little for his best friend.

This train of thought reminded him of the slightly puzzling conversation he had had with his sister the previous day, about which he wanted to learn more…

"_I'll see you at the weekend."_

"_Where?"_

"_I'm coming to New York."_

"_Oh?"_

"_Didn't Danny tell you?"_

"Francesca's coming to stay this weekend," said Martin quietly but mildly enquiringly.

"Oh? That's nice."

Martin surveyed Danny closely.

"Did you know she was coming?"

"Yes – I did," Danny admitted.

"Actually – I invited her."

Martin stared. His eyes nearly dropped out of his head.

"Where's she going to sleep?"

"She'll have your room," said Danny, matter-of-factly.

Martin looked aghast. "My room?"

"You can sleep on the sofa!"

Martin was speechless.

"Well – I didn't think you'd mind. She is your little sister. And, ah – " Danny paused a moment. "I wouldn't want to BROOKE any resentment."

The car screeched to a halt. Martin slammed on the brakes. He and Danny were thrown forward and landed back in their seats with a jerk.

Martin looked at Danny. Danny was looking at him inquisitively.

"So?" Danny asked.

Martin coloured furiously, then looked away.

"How's it going?"

Martin looked up again. There was something in the tone of Danny's voice which caught his attention and held it undividedly. He gazed at Danny's face. Almost at once, he realised what it was. Martin remembered that, not long after the break-up, he had talked to Vivian about Danny. He had expressed his concern that, unlike previous occasions, Danny had seemed to lack the ability to bounce back, the spark had gone out of his eyes and a light inside him seemed to have died. Now, things were different. The "Danny bounce" was there again. The spark, joy of joys, had been reignited. The light inside him had reilluminated.

"She's a pretty girl," Martin answered simply.

Danny nodded, a half-smile on his lips. He gazed fondly at Martin, his brown eyes twinkling.

"It's getting better, brother," he said, warmly, "It's getting better."


End file.
